Defy Your Stars
by vintage-eloise
Summary: Dom is still heartbroken, he got his children back and he's no longer being hunted down. So what is haunting Dom Cobb? Taking a break in Paris Dom is dreaming again but he doesn't know how or why, and as usual there are 'other' complications. Who is she and what does she want from him? Dom and OC.
1. Chapter 1

Dom swaggered through the casino doors his gut overflowing with Dutch courage and in search of the nearest alcoholic beverage; he needed anything and everything to drown his mind, if only he could drown. The world was a blur that surrounded him, the lights almost blinded him practically spinning it was miracle that he reached the bar without collapsing. Three whiskeys later he had an overbearing urge to lose everything he had while he still could. His eyes sharpened but looked ever stern and managed to ward off any potential company, he gained himself a few looks here and there but nothing that warranted him toning down his sense of absolute determination; the determination to forget.

There was a loud band playing, it was playing the kind of smooth jazz Dom used to enjoy but now, now he wasn't interested, the sweet melodies were sickly and a lump appeared in his throat. He drowned it in yet more whiskey. He found the nearest roulette wheel, it was disappointingly conventional; he would have preferred the Russian variety but on second thoughts perhaps blowing your brains out was a risk the casino wasn't going to take. He started low.

"Five-hundred on black."

All other bets were taken as Dom took a curt glance around the room; nothing captured his eye, though he could not see clearly any longer. It was black, but there was no reaction, not even a twitch from his face. Black came up again, and again and a fourth time. Still not a murmur, instead he was stood almost nonchalantly as he tossed his now sizeable stack of chips across the table with a flippant air. The fellow gamblers stared on as they waited for his to put everything on black, as his chapped lips pressed together on the edge of saying the words 'black' he felt something brush his shoulder, he was a scrunched fist away from pushing them back, it was a rather condescending voice that followed.

"Red five. Put it all on the red five."

A slender hand placed a tattered playing card on the table in front of him, the edges browned as if it had licked the flames of hell, the crease of a fold was a deep artery down the centre of the card which pierced the central heart. The five of hearts glared back up Dom with a fierce presence as it burned into the tabletop, the reflection scorched his eyes, without thought or apprehension a stubborn finger held the card down.

"Red Five."

The wheel spin with an immeasurable fury, the ball was flying through the air as he watched the hand beside his through the corner of his eye. It was faltering now; tripping over itself, each beat as it hit the wheel to bounce back up was a pump of his heart, hitting each number with a carefree skip. Slowing now it tripped passed the black eight, then the red twenty three, it touched down on the black ten with a vengeance, it was over, it was all gone on a whim and he felt nothing. Then with the bat of his eyelid he looked past the hazy whiskey mist and found through the stars or the gods it lay on the red five without a wobble. Breaths were held and with a sudden exhalation the onlookers cheered with astonishment. She brushed his shoulder.

"No need to thank me darling."

Spinning round he found himself struggling through the crowd searching for her, wrestling for sight he had to find her, who was she? A glint of red sparkle caught his suffering eyes, a fluttered eyelid turned to him, a glimpse of her face snuck out from the dishevelled curls and her cheeks blushed in recognition. He ran after he as she scampered through a chamber of doors, rooms full of people, crowds of faceless, nameless fools in Dom's way. Lights reflecting of every chandelier, ornate mirror and glass door, blinding him a rippling of sparkles shone from her, he noticed something through his strained sight. She had no shoes on, just the padded soles of petite feet, darkened where she had out pressure he could see the shadowy brown of her heels and toes. She had walked through hell.

A room full of mirrors with mirror glass shards covered the floor. Reaching out a hand he called for her to watch out as pieces embedded into her soles, tearing the skin it was like she couldn't feel it, she was empty. Full-length mirrors with golden frames covered the walls, he could she everything from every angle but she had no face, he couldn't find it, where was it. The solid shape of a gun appeared in her hand as he stared at her unyielding back, the same that had passed him the playing card, that had brushed his shoulder was now gripping the trigger. An ear-splintering gunshot rung through his body as blood ruptured and her corpse fell through the air. A tear of her blood rolled from his cheek as a red river flowed passed his feet. Dom tried to move but the world spun aroung him and slowly but surely his eyes closed and felt his own heart stopped beating.

Dom awoke to sweating dripping from every pore and an empty bottle of whiskey by the bed, he lowered himself cautiously back onto a bed of his own cold putrid sweat, forced his eyes shut and tried not to see red.


	2. Chapter 2

Sauntering down the streets of Paris Dom tried to act cool as if something monumental hadn't just happened; although truth be told if he told anyone on the street found that he'd just had a dream of his own volition, without aid, they would have thought that was completely normal. But of course Dom knew so much better than this, he had the knowledge that he'd not had a naturally occurring dream since he'd gone into limbo with Mal, and even before that they didn't happen like this. It was so clear and vivid like the dreams he'd so often worked and lived in, yet this wasn't manufactured or planned instead it was not too far from his nocturnal visions before he found the world of dreams; the kind everyone else had every night. As sweat drained from his hands and forehead he became parched in the mid-morning sun. Gold gleaming letters caught his eye in the shape of the words 'Le Soleil D'or', he fleetingly rushed across the road in front of a car which resulted in the deafening blasts of a car horn as he ignored the sounds in his search for a drink and hopefully reassurance that everything was fine.

Slowing as he went, Dom caught the door as a man rushed out the door, this was just the place he thought; quiet enough to think yet busy enough as to not attract any attention. He saw a young roguish looking guy at what he assumed was where he should order, he strolled with a much more casual gait now.

"Je voudrais un cafe s'il vous plait."

As the tanned youth began to get the coffee, Dom became distracted, it was like he was being pulled to look across the cafe, though resisting he eventually gave in. In the far corner of the room was a small table backed against the wall of glass that was the shop front. Sat slightly hunched over was a young woman, Dom felt this was just a result of him being a hot-blooded male, but something didn't fit. As he waited he kept mulling her over; he noticed her restless feet twitch under the table, ever repositioning themselves, he long brunette hair that tumbled down her back messily, the kind of precise bed hair that filled the heads of Parisian women. Cobb was now undeniably staring at the back of this woman now, so much so he didn't wake up until the young lad had tried to hand him his coffee for the second time. After a little too long looking at her she moved out of nowhere and it shocked him as he almost tripped over his own feet as she drew back side of her hair; Dom's intention of sitting far away had changed, he was compelled to see her face. He'd seen that hand before. He didn't want to get too close, and the was no seat that would mean he was sure he would see her face; eventually he chose a table a fair distance away from hers but choose to sit in full view. Those hands. Stirring the coffee round methodically as thoughts filled his already dazed mind Dom began to get flashes of the dream he had had the previous night. He tried to shake them off but they were determined to stay, he began to get nervous and twitchy and turned to drumming his fingers on the table. The girl turned her face to the window and as she did the glass reflected her image perfectly, Dom almost knocked his cup over as he saw the girl in the dream. Shit. How could he not see this fucked up nonsense coming, since when did anything normal happen to an Extractor, or at least he was? He supposed it might not be her, just a figment of his imagination but how could he tell? He would talk to her, if she was in the dream she'd have to remember him. With as much confidence as he could muster without looking arrogant Dom went over to the table at which the unsuspecting girl sat; if it was her she'd English so that was his first port of call.

"Hey."

She looked up with her longing eyes that held his gaze "Hello," came her harmonious English accent which he'd not forgotten.

"I was just wondering if we'd met. I thought I recognised you."  
She looked confused but almost flattered, "Sorry I don't think we have, I think I would remember." Her cheeks went a pink hue as she accidentally blurted out her obvious attraction towards him as Dom sat down hoping he was still welcome.

"Dominic Cobb, by the way."

She smiled and redrew the hair, tucking it behind her ear "Elodie."

Dom tried to see what she had been drawing but Elodie shut the book sharply slipping it into her handbag; she took a glance at the delicate watch on her wrist and practically jumped from her chair. "I'm so sorry Dominic, I've got to be somewhere, it's been lovely meeting. I'm sorry I'm not who you thought." Clumisly she grabbed her bag as she tried to wiggle he way between the chairs and tables whilst grabbing her coat from the chair. She'd left her bill on the table and took baby running steps to the door out of the cafe. Dom looked on wearily, it _was _her, and he knew it. So why didn't she recognise him? When people die in dreams they wake up, she'd shot herself in order to wake up, so why didn't she remember? Rational thought told him it was just a dream, that he'd imagined that it was her, and even if it was it was merely a dream that didn't matter. But experience had taught him the hard way that dreams always mattered especially one's that occurred out of nowhere for someone who doesn't dream out of work. As he begrudgingly got up form his own chair Dom saw something on the floor as he went himself to leave. Crouching down he picked it up, turned it over and saw a Red five of hearts staring up at him.


End file.
